


Big Little Liars

by speakpirate



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:58:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5546291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speakpirate/pseuds/speakpirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten ways the PLL moms escaped from the DiLaurentis basement after Last Dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Little Liars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Leeshie_mac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leeshie_mac/gifts).



> I owe the idea for this fic to Leeshie_mac! Thank you, my friend, for the inspiration - and for your comments all the way through Swear This One You'll Save!

I.

The two Rosewood police officers sit in the squad car, sharing a thermos of coffee and keeping an eye on the DiLaurentis house. A somewhat lazy eye.

“Yes!” says the cop on the passenger side, pumping a fist in the air.

“Candy Crush?” his partner asks.

“Beat level 76,” the first cop replies. “Finally!”

In the distance, there is the sound of a dog barking.

The cop puts down his phone. “You see anything out there?”

“Nope,” his partner answers. “Just the next five hours of my life draining away.”

The barking gets louder.

“You believe all this stuff?” the first cop asks. “These girls being stalked by a kidnapper and all?”

“Can’t blame the kidnapper,” his partner yawns. “I mean, you don’t want to be kidnapped and stalked all the time, don’t wear such short skirts. That’s all I’m saying.”

Their conversation is interrupted by louder and more frantic barking. A keen-eyed Sheltie sheep dog bounds across the street and paws at the door of their cruiser, barking furiously.

“What the heck?” the cop says, startled.

“Isn’t that the dog that dug up a body one time?” his partner asks. 

“I think she’s trying to tell us something,” the cop suggests, opening the door of the car. “What is it, girl? What’s the matter?”

The dog bites the cop’s pant leg, trying to drag him back across the street.

“Arrest him,” his partner suggests helpfully. “He’s assaulting an officer.”

The sheep dog herds the first cop around to the side of the DiLaurentis house, where he stops barking and starts pawing at a basement window. The cop hears faint voices calling for help.

The dog bounds towards the back of the house, where the door is ajar and the cries for help sound louder. The cop draws his gun and advances slowly into the house. He jumps at the sight of a possible intruder in the corner, but it turns out to be a broom and mop.

“Let us out, let us out!” voices call, followed by a pounding on the door that seems to lead down to the basement. The dog barks excitedly.

The cop holsters his weapon and opens the door. He sees the moms, a little drunk and covered in dust, and immediately reaches for his radio.

“Ten four, buddy - I need some back up! That dog just led me to a burglary ring!”

 

\------------------

 

II.

“We’re never going to get out of here,” Ashley Marin says, sitting morosely on the stairs. 

Just then, the door to the basement is flung open. An old lady wearing gardening gloves is silhouetted by a flash of lightning. “I had a premonition,” the Grunwald intones in a mysterious voice, “of dark forces trapping you underground.”

“Who _are_ you?” Veronica Hastings demands as she rushes to the top of the stairs. “And what is all this premonition nonsense?”

“Oh alright,” Carla Grunwald says. “I was passing through the yard on the way to the liquor store.” 

“The liquor store?” Ella says, hopefully. 

“Cut to the chase,” Pam admonishes. “This is very important. Did your premonition involve cabernet?”

 

\------------------

 

III.

Spencer walks in the door of the Hastings house feeling exhausted. She kicks off her heels and carries them into the kitchen, thinking that she’ll make herself a quick cup of coffee.

She sees the decimated remains of a cheese plate, several empty wine bottles in the trash, four abandoned glasses, and a bottle on the kitchen island that is still half full. 

“Something isn’t right here,” she says to herself. “Our moms would never leave a bottle half full.” 

She feels a surge of adrenaline at the prospect of another mystery. She runs upstairs to change out of her dress and put on her sleuthing beanie, checking for any sign of her mother as she goes. Returning to the scene in the kitchen, Spencer pours herself a glass of the leftover wine, sniffing it carefully to make sure it hasn’t been drugged. Then she notices the back screen door is blowing open a bit, as if someone left the house in a hurry, leaving it unsecured.

Spencer hurries out and finds a stain that might be blood, or possibly wine, on the back porch. She uses her cell phone as a light and leans in to examine it closely. She spills some of her own wine on the porch to compare, but can’t make a clear determination. She snaps a picture and texts it to the other Liars. Hanna texts back a picture of ketchup on the side of the fries she’s eating. Spencer frowns. 

Then she notices the muddy footprints cutting across the yard to the DiLaurentis house. Four sets, weaving a bit as if whoever made them might have been unsteady on their feet. Spencer sets off in pursuit.

“Hello,” she calls, pushing open the back door of Alison’s house. “Mom? Are you here?”

There’s no answer, but she thinks she can hear the sound of laughter from the heating vents. Curious, she heads for the basement door, which she has to unlock before starting down the stairs.

When she gets to the bottom, she sees her mother sitting cross legged in a circle with Ashley, Ella, and Pam, surrounded by several new bottles liberated from Kenneth DiLaurentis’ basement wine racks. 

Pam Fields is wearing her bra on the outside of her clothes, and her own mother has a lipstick mark on her collar and appears to be twerking.

“Truth,” she hears Ashley Marin say, as Veronica sits down.

Ella Montgomery waves her hand wildly, “I’ve got a good one,” she slurs. “Is it true that Jasshon has a piercing -”

“Ah-he-hem!” Spencer says, folding her arms over her chest. “Mom, I think maybe it’s time for your friends to go home now. It’s getting late, I’m sure their daughters will be worried.” 

 

\-----------------

 

IV.

“We’re never going to get out of here,” Ella Montgomery sighs dejectedly, flopping down to sit on the bottom step.

“Stand back,” Pam Fields orders, pulling a .38 Special out of an ankle holster. She squeezes off six rounds, shooting out the lock so that the door swings wide open.

 

\------------------

 

V.

“This is ridiculous,” Ashley declares, trying to beat the dust and cobwebs off of her clothing. She leans an arm against the wall to balance as she brushes furiously at her pant leg. 

“Eeeeeeeek!” she shrieks, as her hand pushes against a hidden latch, causing her to lose her footing and stumble forward as a section of the wall swings inward, revealing a dimly lit hidden passageway.

“Where does this go?” Veronica demands, as Ashley is picking herself up off the floor.

“One way to find out,” Ella observes, wryly. 

Slowly, they make their way into the secret passage. It’s narrow and cramped, stuffed with boxes and stacks of loose items. Pam knocks her elbow against a birdcage and screams when a bird trills out a high pitched series of tones.

Veronica spins around, upsetting a towering stack of video tapes labeled N.A.T. club.

The bird goes quiet, and the four of them advance down the hallway, feeling a growing sense of unease. Ashley stubs her toe against a metal barrel. “Do you think there’s a body in there?” she whispers.

Ella gingerly picks up a small pillow with elastic straps attached. “Was this from Melissa’s fake pregnancy?” she hisses at Veronica.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Pam declares, examining a pair of boots she recognizes as Maya St. Germain’s.

Ashley screams next, as a little blonde girl in an old fashioned white dress appears in front of them holding a bloody horseshoe. “I’m so cold,” the little girl says.

“Then put on a sweater,” an annoyed looking Malcolm Cutler tells her.

“What are you two doing down here?” Ella asks him. “What is this place?”

“Storage,” the little girl replies.

“For all the lost plot lines,” Malcolm adds helpfully.

“Are you moving in?” the little girl asks. “Cause it’s already _really_ crowded down here.”

“We’ve got to get out of here!” Veronica cries. “Or we’ll never see our daughters again!”

“They’ll never even notice we’re gone!” Pam worries.

“Hanna will take all of my clothes!” Ashley laments.

“Quick,” Ella tells them. “I think I know the way out!”

They run after her down a small labyrinth of corridors, until she stops, pointing at the ceiling.

“There’s a trap door!” she says, pulling on a rope to reveal a small set of stairs.

They scramble up the steps, pushing aside a plank of floorboards to arrive gasping for breath but safely out of danger in the Hastings barn.

“How did you know the way out?” Ashley asks in awe. “I thought we were goners.”

“Mike,” Ella explains. “Byron and I lose him down there all the time!”

 

\-----------------

 

VI.

“There has to be something down here that we can use to get out,” Veronica announces. “Fan out! See what we can find!”

“Matches!” Ashley calls, holding up a matchbook from a shelf near the fuse box.

“Tool box,” Pam cries.

“Wine bottles!” Ella offers. “We could break them and tunnel our way out!”

“I’ve got this,” Veronica declares, brandishing a chainsaw she’s uncovered in a corner.

“I’m not sure that’s the best-” Pam says.

“Out of the way,” Veronica orders, making a sweeping motion with one hand as she hefts the chainsaw in the other. She barges past them up the stairs, pulling the cord as she goes.

She basement fills with the sound of a roaring buzz and whine, the smell of gasoline and splintering wood as Veronica uses the saw to rip through the locked door.

Ella and Ashley pry a bottle of wine open with a crowbar that Pam hands them. 

 

\-----------------

 

VII.

“We’re never going to get out of here,” Pam says dejectedly, sitting down on the steps with her head in her hands.

“Stand back,” Ella Montgomery orders decisively, advancing up the stairs alone. 

She closes her fists and then opens her hands, making an emphatic waving motion in the direction of the door. The door explodes, and then vanishes.

Ella has a little more swagger in her walk as she climbs the last few steps and stands to wait for them in the DiLaurentis kitchen.

Pam, Ashley and Veronica are frozen in place, exchanging stunned looks.

“Oh come on,” Ella calls down. “I used to be a witch. So what? We all have secrets!”

 

\-----------------

 

VIII.

“We’re never going to get out of here,” Veronica Hastings says, sitting resignedly on the stairs. 

Just then, the door to the basement is flung open. A well groomed stylish woman is silhouetted by a flash of lightning. “Ashley?” She calls out. “Veronica? Are you down there?”

“Ugh,” Veronica mutters under her breath. “Saved by the nouveau riche.”

“Be nice!” Pam admonishes. “She’s rescuing us!”

“Leona?” Ashley says, puzzled. “How did you know we were here?”

“Mona called me!” Leona Vanderwaal trills. “My girl knows everything!”

\---------------

 

IX.

“Our daughters are in danger!” Pam shouts. “We have to find a way out of here!”

Ashley grabs a fire extinguisher and starts pounding at the door handle.

Ella grabs a metal pipe off the floor and stands on the washing machine to try and break out the glass block windows.

Veronica finds a box of matches and a can of WD-40 and goes after another one of the windows with a makeshift blowtorch.

Pam heads over to the fuse box, and grabs the lever for the main circuit breaker for the house, pulling it down to plunge them all into darkness, then turning it back on again. She repeats this three times in short bursts, three more times with longer bursts, followed by three short bursts again. She repeats the whole pattern three times, until Veronica shouts over the flamethrower to ask her what exactly she’s doing.

“Shhh!” Ashley cries, from the door. “I think someone’s in the house!”

The basement door opens. It’s the cops from the cruisers outside.

“Ummmmm,” one of the cops says, staring at them confusedly. “Someone sent an SOS?”

 

\---------------- 

 

X.

It’s hard to be sure over the clinking of liquor bottles, but Pam Fields thinks she might hear a key turning in the front door lock of the DiLaurentis house. “Is that-” 

“Shhh!” Ella Montgomery hisses. “It could be Charles, coming back for us!”

Veronica Hastings grabs a broom and positions herself behind the basement door, ready to strike.

“Mmmmph,” they hear from above them, followed by a series of thumps, as if someone is knocking into furniture, trying to find their way around in the dark. Odd, as the lamp light from the living room is visible, slanting between the floorboards, shining like a series of spotlights through the strange collection of small holes drilled into wood.

Ashley Marin’s eyes go wide as she distinctly hears what sounds like a moan. 

“Ali,” Emily Fields moans again.

“Let’s forget about everything else,” Alison says in a voice that manages to be both breathy and decisive. “We’re teenagers, and it’s still Prom Night.”

Ella covers her mouth to hold back a nervous giggle as the two girls come into view through the peepholes, kissing furiously and tugging at each other’s clothes. Veronica is pressing her lips tightly together as if she, too, is holding in a good laugh.

The sound of a dress being unzipped seems to force Pam Fields out of her frozen state of shock.

“Emily?” Pam calls out, her voice almost strangled with embarrassment. “Emily, honey!”

“That’s weird,” Alison says, panting slightly. “I thought I heard your mom’s voice just now.”

“That happens to me _all_ the time,” Emily replies, her lips on Alison’s neck.

“Emily!” Pam says again, a little louder. “Emily! Alison!”

“Woah,” Emily says. “It’s like she’s right here.”

“Girls!” Ashley Marin cries, grabbing the broom from Veronica to bang forcefully against the ceiling. “Girls! We’re locked in the basement! If you could just let us out before you finish unhooking that bra clasp, Emily - we’ll be on our way!”

“Mrs. Marin?” Alison squeals. 

“The door, please?” Veronica reminds them, loudly.

“Mrs. Hastings?” Emily exclaims, her face turning a deep red.

The two girls straighten their clothes and hurry over to open the basement door. The mothers emerge, grimy with sweat and basement dirt, drunk and bedraggled and trying to look stern instead of amused at the nature of their rescue.

“How did you wind up in the basement?” Alison asks, confused.

“It’s not important,” Veronica says, brusquely. “It’s getting late. I should check on Spencer.”

“Yes,” Ella agrees, clutching Ashley’s arm as they both struggle to keep a straight face. “I think I hear Aria calling me. We’d better be going.”

“Emily,” Pam says, in a serious voice as she walks over to her daughter.

 _Oh god, she’s going to take Emily home and ground her for the rest of her life,_ Alison thinks.

 _Oh god, she’s going to try to have a sex talk with me in front of Alison,_ Emily thinks, mortified. 

“I take it you’re staying over here tonight? That’s fine, just as long as you both come by for breakfast in the morning,” Pam smiles. “Ten o’clock. I’ll have pancakes ready.”


End file.
